


faces.

by hyzkoa



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Hisoka and illumi meeting when they are kids, M/M, Trans Male Character, trans hisoka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 02:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyzkoa/pseuds/hyzkoa
Summary: Hisoka's eyes and his nen are two things no one could ever forget.





	faces.

**Author's Note:**

> trans rights

Defectuous street lamps did their best to light the street below them, their flickering dim light shining down a filthy pavement, where people with equally filthy faces walked. They weren't useful, but that didn't matter, because although there was no moon to be found in the sky, there also was no shortage of light in this zone of the city. Big, colorful signs packed next to and on top of each other filled the narrow street with neon lights and, well, some form of life, albeit not the best one. Not that Illumi cared, or was even able to spot the difference between a good and a bad person; after working in the family business a few years now, the 12 year old Zoldyck didn't see faces as something that belonged to the people that wore them more than it belonged on the shiny, printed paper handed to him in an envelope. So, as he continued his night, blending into the shadows with Zetsu and stalking his target (who he might as well have just followed a step behind with a needle pressed to his spine, because he was so wasted he wouldn't have noticed), he doesn't think of this person as one. He doesn't think of the underlings he yelled at and women he flirted with as people, neither. 

It's not how he coped with his job. He wouldn't have known the meaning of that. It's just that he never even developed the concept of people living outside the pictures he was given. And when he did, he didn't care; it was just more information to store in how it was best to kill his targets. Right now, his technique isn't as refined, but it's good enough to consider him another talented Zoldyck. The first of many assassin children to come. He dug needles along the width of his target's neck, burying them deep into the jugular.

Too easy. It's always easy.

It's a job related to territory disputes, or something along those lines, so he left the needles in the corpse as instructed, blood spreading around it.

Illumi turned to make his way back home, maybe feed Mike something while he was at it - and subconsciously, he knew that didn't break his routine anymore as it had become part of it. Maybe if he had the same dexterity in managing his emotions as he did with slitting adults’ throats, he would've realized that was the reason of why he walked so slowly. 

He stopped abruptly, the ‘devoid of emotion’ look on his face crumbling away as his brows knitted together in a frown. A ruthless wave of nen hit him, almost freezing him for a second before discerning it wasn't stronger than his. He snapped his head to the alley stretching into darkness to his left, three needles swiftly thrown to the shadows where the owner stood. Someone was clapping and even though the needles he threw made them stop, he didn't hear the familiar agonizing sounds of a dying target. He felt their nen, heard it stretch, and his needles returned flying to him.

Illumi caught them between his knuckles and that same nen wrapped him up. He felt them smile.

“You have it too.”

The other nen user walked towards him, stepping into the dim street light to reveal green hair with dark roots, tied up in a ponytail, and fox-like eyes staring down at him. They were taller. Older. But not stronger. Illumi's eyes averted from their gaze, glancing over the muscle in their arms; their forearms were wrapped tightly in bandage, up to their knuckles, and even in the poor lighting he could spot the dried out, brownish traces of blood in it. Maybe physically, they would have an advantage. But the assassins technique didn't require him of such. His frown deepened, wondering what kind of ability they had to redirect his attack.

Their eyes were fixed on him, as if trying to discern his ability as well.

Illumi didn't have time for this, but he couldn't just leave behind a witness alive. 

This person dodged his attacks without using his ability, barely avoiding his face being impaled with needles. Blood trickled down his cheeks. If anything he looked happier. And in return, Illumi was losing more of his patience.

As expected, someone with ragged, old clothing and  wounds all over their body wouldn't win against a Zoldyck. He pinned their arms to the wall with one needle for each, piercing through the forearms and fixing it in place with Nen. He held another one between his knuckles and pressed the point to their throat. Their smile widened, their eyes grew sharper with a feral glint. Illumi frowned.

They had never frowned for this long.

“Are you with my target?” He had already forgotten their name. His target had talked with a number of people while Illlumi followed him, and this person's face didn't belong to any of them. He couldn't place them among the women he touched, and none of his underlings were that young. Although it annoyed him there had been no mention of  _ bodyguards _ \- and he hadn't detected this freak, neither, which was on him - it could mean more money for taking the bother dealing with it. It wasn't in the deal, but his client would probably avoid defying a Zoldyck.

“No.” They smiled, almost innocently. At this point it was fair of Illumi to think it was on purpose. His black, shoulder length hair began to move, floating with his output of Nen.

“Then  _ what? _ ” He growled, a thin red line streaming down the other's throat as he pressed the needle further. 

And then, Illumi bolted away from the kid with poorly dyed hair, jumping to one of the open windows in the walls of the alley. He looked down, his eyes wide and face growing pale as sweat drops slid down the side of his face.

That monstrous blood thirst was nowhere near the strength he had felt before.

“Wonderful.”

The dark, sticky, sickening feeling flooded the alley, rats scurrying away in the trash and lights bulbs crashing under the pressure. They freed themselves of Illumi's needles somehow, probably mutilating even more of their body, but by that point Illumi had already fled. He hid any trace of him with Zetsu, and ran away from the opponent that had been hiding his actual range.

When he reported back to his family, and client, the story was cut short to the lifeless body of his client's rival turf lying on a pool of blood, marked with the assassins needles.

He never spoke of the kid with old clothes and a monstrous, hungry Nen that sent him running back to Padokia, and memorable sharp eyes.

* * *

Hisoka laid asleep next to him. He looked at the clock. It was 6 in the morning. The sun was starting to seep into their room.

Illumi played with his hair, thinking about his jobs for the day before his eyes laid on the top of Hisoka's head, and he could already see him in the bathroom applying his green hair dye. Or, if his mood had already changed and the green had become old to him after a week, he could hear the high heels clicking on the floorboard as he walked around the apartment, then down the hallway after telling him he was off to buy another color, whatever he was feeling like and didn't already own, or had ran out of. He predicted he'd go back to orange.

As his thoughts wandered, Illumi continued to stare at the other's roots, almost getting lost in the color.

The contrast between light green and dark hair.

He stared, his black eyes fixed.

. . .

Then, abruptly and a bit too roughly, he grabbed Hisoka's head with both hands, pulling it towards him to look closer, narrowing his eyes. What did it remind him of? He ignored the murmurs and hums the other made as he woke up, cutting him off with a blunt ‘shut up’ (and then digging his nails into Hisoka's skin as he did, in fact, continue talking with a stupid ‘good morning to you, too’) as he let himself follow the weak trail of memories that led him to his answer. 

“You were that kid.”

“What?”

“You were that kid.” His tone didn't change.

Hisoka looked up, Illumi allowing it by not holding his head firmly in place anymore, but letting his hands linger in his face. Hisoka raised a brow.

“That kid with the bandages. I knew your Nen felt familiar. Annoyingly sticky and familiar.”

“We've been dating for two years.”

“And?”

“Did you not recognize me when we met again?”

“I didn't.”

“I did.”

“I forgot you as soon as I went back home.”

“You ran away from me, terrified.”

“Shut up.”

Hisoka smirked. Illumi shoved a pillow in his face, covering those mischievous, fox eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading kudos and comments are appreciated
> 
> special thanks to @ transkoichi in ao3 for beta reading
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter.](twitter.com/hyzkoa)  
> 


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